Don't you fucking dare !
by longlivethestarks
Summary: a Shameless AU where after Ian enlisted for the army, Mickey left the Southside, went to New York and changed his identity. He sees Ian for the first time in years. (based on a tumblr gifset.) rated T for coarse language.


this is a Shameless fanfiction based on this awesome Shameless AU gifset : shioribatch . tumblr (.com) /post/94462642685/shameless-us-au-where-ian-enlisted-after-mickeys. (remove the spaces and brackets). There may be some english mistakes … Hope you'll like it anyway !

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><p>It had been three years, almost day to day, since his life had fallen apart. Three years had gone by when he hadn't been living life at its fullest. No, he had only been surviving. Barely breathing as if he had to make some awful efforts to keep his head above the water. Sometimes, more than once actually, he had wished he had drowned completely and done things differently. But the truth was, even if he was now full of regrets, he knew he couldn't have changed things. He was a coward. He had been unable to fight for what he truly wanted, scared to be judged, terrified by how his peers would perceive him … Three years, yet the pain was still vivid <em>as fuck<em>.

He had tried to push away these feelings he didn't want. He had even left the Southside of Chicago two years ago, leaving wife and kid in the family house. He had reached New York, because he needed to see someplace new, far from home and the people he knew. After all, that place was supposed to be right for fresh starts and that was all he needed: not to be Mickey Milkovich anymore.

He had scammed his way into the NYPD. How ironic! He didn't really know why he had decided to join a police force. Perhaps because of how opposed it was to his former lifestyle he was so eager to forget. He used to be the con, the thug, the kid everyone feared in the neighbourhood. He had left his former life in the past, in Chicago, where it belonged. He had gotten rid of his wedding ring, he had even dyed his hair blond. He had even changed his name. The only reminders of his life in the Southside were his tattooed knuckles and the aching pain he was still feeling in his stomach as if life was still beating him up for not doing the right thing years ago. He had made a certain amount of efforts to manage to fit in and it had actually succeeded. If anyone from the Southside could see him at that precise moment, they wouldn't be able to recognise him, not at all.

He was now sitting in a police car, beside his partner who was driving, overtaking the other vehicles, which were in their way, the sound of the siren was annoyingly loud, but Mickey had gotten used to it. They had been called a few minutes ago while they were on a surveillance routine around Queens, there was a hostage situation blocks away from them and they were closer than any other unit. Mickey's partner whose name was Bailey parked as if he had received his driving licence by pure luck. They took a few seconds to grab a couple of guns each and throw their bulletproof vests on. They had been told that the individual had a gun …

"Let's go take care of that nut job." Mickey mumbled after making sure his gun was loaded. He had already been shot several times in the past and he had no intentions to let that happen again. He shook his head to keep these memories away, now wasn't the time to be distracted.

They reached the floor where the hostage taking was taking place in a heartbeat. The door was half-opened, probably because the nut case had already released a few hostages. Only two were still in the room, through the space left by the half-opened door, Mickey could see them shaking on the opposite side of the apartment.

Bailey knocked at the door and said: "Release the hostages and we'll talk to see what you want." He was being as calm as possible in order to sound reassuring so the guy inside would trust him enough to let the innocent people go.

The dude replied with a trembling voice: "Anyone tries to come inside and I'll fucking shoot them in the face." The threat didn't seem credible, as the guy was clearly as terrified as the hostages. _But that voice!_ Mickey recognised it in a heartbeat. How could he ever forget it? It was the voice he was dying to hear, even though it had been three long years. Without even thinking about it, Mickey pushed his partner to the side and whispered: "Trust me, don't do anything stupid." Then, he bursted into the room.

The guy turned to face him, pointing the gun right to his chest. Mickey was doing the exact same thing, even if he knew he would never be able to pull the trigger. _The fuck Gallagher?!_ He was facing the redhead, the one he had asked for at the Alibi, the one he had tried to forget by fucking chicks with ginger hair, but none of them were _him_. He remembered that time he took the picture of Ian to jerk off, dreaming of being with him. And now, he was standing in front of him. As surprised as Mickey was to find him again.

"Let these people go so we can fucking talk."

His voice was an unusual mixture of sadness and anger. The pain in his stomach was back. What was Gallagher doing in New York? Wasn't he supposed to be in the army for four years? And what the fuck was he doing holding people hostages?

It seemed like Ian was confused too. Random thoughts were rushing in his mind, among which: why was Mickey _blond_?

"Mickey?"

"I'm not kidding Gallagher, lower your gun and let these people go."

With his eyes stuck on Mickey, Ian obeyed and the two hostages left the room running. Once they were out, Mickey shut the door, to prevent Bailey from coming inside. Gallagher wasn't okay, and he hadn't dropped the gun yet, only _he_ could do something about it. It was his fault if Ian had left after all.

"The fuck are you doing here Gallagher? Weren't you supposed to be in the army or some shit?"

His Southside accent he had tried so hard not to use was coming back, as his worries for Ian were reaching their peak. For three years he had accepted the absence of Ian by believing he was safe, taken care of, following his dream by being in the army. But now he couldn't help blaming himself: it was all his fault, he should have told Gallagher he needed him to stay instead of being a coward, unable to blurt out how he felt.

"They … They tried to control me and I ran away …"

Each word was preceded by a hesitation. Ian didn't seem sure of anything. He seemed disorientated. He was shaking, sniffing, close to tears.

"I'm worthless Mick'." While saying these words, he pointed his own gun to his head.

Without thinking much about it himself, Mickey yelled: "Don't you fucking dare Ian!" At the same time, he raised his weapon, ready to shoot Ian in the arm to prevent him from doing anything stupid. _I won't lose you again shithead, not like that, not ever_. "Put that gun down, please. I need you to put it down, you're not worthless, you're - …" Still, he couldn't let himself express how he felt. He had had three more years to push his feelings deep inside of his being.

Ian slowly put the gun down as Mickey was telling him, he dropped it on the floor and kicked it so that the weapon found itself far away from him. Mickey found himself able to breathe again. His entire being was aching. His eyes were fixed on Gallagher, as he lowered his gun and put it back on his belt. He couldn't care less about the explanation he would have to give his partner who was patiently waiting on the other side of the door. He had found Ian. The redhead was now sitting on the floor, his head buried in his hands. Mickey couldn't resist and came closer to gently caress Ian's hair with his "FUCK" hand. He had missed him like crazy, but now they were together, they would sort things out together, perhaps visit the Gallaghers in Chicago sometime soon, he would take care of him.


End file.
